


The Late Pete Wentz

by wherewithall



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: A Little Less Sixteen Candles A Little More "Touch Me" (Video), Alternate Universe - A Little Less Sixteen Candles (Music Video), M/M, Not Beta Read, Not Underage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2015-09-05
Packaged: 2018-03-14 00:19:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3401513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wherewithall/pseuds/wherewithall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>''Pete knew that his friends were scared of him, and that Joe and Andy hated everything about him that was vampire. Even Patrick had changed towards him, always looking at him with concern when he thought Pete couldn't see him, and being too cheery the rest of the time, pretending things were okay. Pete desperately wanted not to be alone, but being around these people was making him feel more isolated than being by himself.''</p><p>A Little Less Sixteen Candles AU. I don't know where this story is going but I think I want to find out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm English which explains the English spellings, but all mistakes are my own. I don't own these guys of course, and what with the vampires you can probably guess that all events are totally fictitious

Thick and red, it oozed from the corners of Pete's mouth, trailing down his chin and dripping onto his hoodie, where it soaked in and would soon go crusty and have to be scrubbed off. It wasn't blood, not even close, but it did the trick. Patrick called the drink his Not-So-Bloody Mary. The only resemblance it bore to blood was in colour and viscosity; it tasted foul even to Patrick, whose throat was not burned by the mixture of tomatoes and holy water and various herbs with properties to give Pete strength and reduce his craving for blood.  
Pete was doing better than could be expected, Patrick often had to remind himself. But they could all see his control slipping. They seemed no closer to finding the Dandies, let alone their leader Beckett. Some days, Patrick believed that the only reason Pete had not turned and ripped out all their throats, or gone on a killing spree through the city, was because of his obsessive desire for vengeance against the vampire who had ruined his life and stolen his humanity.  
The greater concern was that Andy and Joe did not seem to be coping any better than Pete. They were tetchy and terse with Patrick and Pete most of the time, and there would be the occasional outright row, but most of the time the two of them seemed wary and reserved. It was making life very difficult for all of them, but especially Pete.  
It was hard for all of them to see the transformation Pete had undergone. Not just the unnatural speed and strength he had gained, nor even the fangs which could always be seen glinting menacingly between his lips, but the dimming of the sparkle in his eyes, and the slow transition in his personality from exuberant and childlike to morose and bitter. Now, for example, he was skulking off to some dingy corner or other with his earphones jammed in and his hood right over his eyes.  
Pete was plagued by his thoughts. Sometimes, when the blood lust got too much, he would think only of William Beckett, and the horrific, violent death he would one day suffer at Pete's hands. At these times, he tried to stay away from anyone more fragile than him, or anything valuable, and wreak his vengeance on trash cans and park furniture. In his more human phases, he instead felt a constant thrum of anger and loss, as well as guilt for inflicting his misery on his friends and, especially right now, loneliness. He knew that his friends were scared of him, and that Joe and Andy hated everything about him that was vampire. Even Patrick had changed towards him, always looking at him with concern when he thought Pete couldn't see him, and being too cheery the rest of the time, pretending things were okay. Pete desperately wanted not to be alone, but being around these people was making him feel more isolated than being by himself.  
Patrick was startled when Pete suddenly stood up and announced “I'm going out.”  
Joe stuck his head round the door. “Hunting? Then we're coming with you.” Going out hunting vampires was the only way the four of them could vent their frustrations, and working as team made them almost feel like they had been before Pete was... changed.  
Pete shook his head. “Not hunting. I just need some air or something. Alone.”  
Patrick met his eyes for a moment. “Be careful, Pete. Don't do anything dumb.”  
“Sure,” Pete said, smiling a little to reassure him, before getting out of there as fast as he could.

The dimly lit city streets were empty and quiet, as they had been every night since the vampires had emerged from the shadows and taken over the town. It was a mild evening, and an occasional breeze would stir warm air through Pete's hair and across his cold skin. He did not know where he was going, instead letting his feet carry him wherever they would, his mind entirely preoccupied. It was clear that the atmosphere between him and the others was reaching a breaking point, and sooner or later things would have to change. Pete dreaded the thought of leaving his best friends behind, and of disappearing into the unknown, but he wanted to leave before the good memories he had of them were outweighed by the recollection of this new discomfort he always felt around them. What he needed to do now was decide when to leave, where to go, and whether to tell them before he did. Patrick would certainly try to stop him if he found out, but Patrick was the person he would most want to say goodbye to.  
Pete stopped in his tracks, finally noticing where he'd ended up. It was a fairly unremarkable back alley, led up to by a set of fairly unremarkable alleys and streets, but it was branded into Pete's memory. He could vividly picture the group of well-dressed vampires that had set upon him, feel them holding him in place while their leader leaned in close. He could see the look in those soulless eyes as he bore his fangs and introduced himself. “William Beckett,” he had said, smiling politely. “Believe me, the pleasure is all mine.”  
Pete did not remember the feeling of those fangs tearing into his throat, or of his blood being slowly drained from him, but he would never forget that face, or that smile.  
“Why did I come back here?” he asked himself aloud. Before he could try to form an answer, he heard the clattering sound of someone running down the echoing alleyways towards him, someone human from the sound of their heavy, laboured breathing.  
A slight, dark figure stumbled round the corner and found himself face to face with Pete. His wide, startled stare took in Pete's greater height, the rusty stain on his hoodie, and the twin fangs glinting on his lips, with terror. Pete grabbed hold of his shoulders before he could run away.  
“Wait, stop! I won't hurt you, I swear. I'm not with whoever you're running from. Please, I can help you.” Pete could feel the kid trembling under his hands like a rabbit in a snare. “Listen, I swear I won't hurt you. I'm Pete. Can you tell me your name?”  
The kid stared at him for a moment, as if weighing up his options. “Ryan.”  
“Okay, Ryan. What happened to you?”  
“Vampires. They snuck up on us. They took my friend. They want me, too.” The kid looked stricken. Saying the words out loud had made him realise that it was real. “One of them was... I knew him. From before. He was my friend and he disappeared. I guess they took him...and now he's come back for us. He killed Spencer. God, Spencer's... Spencer's dead.”  
Pete could not comprehend the awfulness the kid had suffered. He knew there was nothing he could say to make this better. He also knew, however, that he could- had to, even- prevent the same thing from happening to Ryan as had happened to his friends.  
“Ryan, listen to me. You don't have time for grieving him yet. They'll still be looking for you if they went to the trouble of finding you in the first place, and it's still hours until dawn. I can protect you for a while, but we need to get you somewhere safe. Can I walk you home?”  
Ryan looked at the floor. “I can't go back yet. Not without.... I can't explain where Spencer is. His parents shouldn't find out from mine.” He was clearly losing whatever tenuous control he had over his emotions.  
Pete saw that, and kept talking to try and help him keep it together. “Okay, not home then. Somewhere else? A friend's?”  
“One of my friends is dead. The other killed him,” Ryan said bluntly. He looked like he had given up hope already.  
It was obvious to Pete what he had to do, in all conscience. He had to be careful about his words, though, so Ryan would not be scared off. “I have another suggestion, a last resort. But you've gotta remember I'm only suggesting this because you don't look like you have any other choice. This is not a trap.” He stared hard at Ryan until he nodded, before continuing “I have a place I share with three friends, humans. You could stay the night with us in safety. My friends are vampire hunters, so you'd be protected.” Pete didn't add, because he didn't need to, the words 'from me'. They both knew Ryan had every right to fear Pete, and all vampires.  
It seemed like Ryan was beyond caring, and while he seemed a little afraid, his overwhelming aura was of exhaustion and resignation. He nodded, and Pete led him through the moonlit streets in silence.

 

By the time they had arrived at Pete's place, there was a dim, bluish glow on the eastern horizon, and it felt as if the world was stirring. Patrick had waited up for Pete.  
“Where the fuck have you been?” he exploded, trailing off at the sight of a bedraggled teenager following Pete like a sleepwalker. “I was worried sick,” he finished more softly.  
“Patrick, Ryan. Ryan, Patrick. Ryan's been through some shit tonight so I said he could crash with us,” Pete said, adding very emphatic 'I'll tell you when the kid's asleep' eyebrows. Patrick sighed a little.  
“Okay. There's a sofa there Ryan. I'll get you a blanket.” Patrick sighed again, somewhat ungraciously Pete thought, under the circumstances.  
After Ryan had drunk some hot chocolate and fallen into an exhausted sleep, Patrick and Pete went to talk quietly in the kitchen. Patrick looked for a long moment at Pete. “So, what did you do?”  
Pete looked wounded.”This wasn't me! It was another group. The kid knew one of them, from when he was human. He killed his friend in front of him, and now Ryan's on the hit list.”  
“Shit.”  
“Yeah.”  
“So who were the vamps?”  
Pete gave Patrick an odd look. “Some of Beckett's, I think.”  
“What makes you say that?”  
“They were on his turf.”  
At that, Patrick looked furious. “And what were you doing near Beckett's turf? I told you to be careful! Do you care about yourself at all?”  
Surprised, Pete flinched from Patrick's tirade. “I was just walking, I ended up there. I wasn't looking for trouble.”  
“Weren't you? Because it seems a lot like you were. In fact, it kinda looks like you've got a death wish.”  
“No, I swear, I just... I ended up in the alley where Beckett killed me. I guess I just needed to see it again. To try and make sense of things.”  
Patrick pulled his worried face. “Pete, we need to talk about this, don't we? About how you're not dealing at all. About how no one is dealing. Because things are so far from okay.”  
“We don't need to talk about anything except how we're going to help Ryan.”  
After a sigh, Patrick nodded. “Okay. And how do we help him?”  
“Well, when he wakes up tomorrow we'll ask him what he wants to do, but I don't think he'll want to go home just yet, so I was thinking...”  
“No. No, Pete, you can't be serious. We can't just keep a kid. How old is he, fourteen, fifteen?”  
“We'll ask him tomorrow. But please, we can't leave him like this. I want to help him, keep him safe. I want to stop what happened to me happening to him.”  
The argument was already won, and Patrick, reluctantly, accepted that if it came to it, they couldn't leave Ryan to fend for himself.  
Pete watched Patrick shuffle off to bed, and Ryan shift a little in his sleep, and he realised how hard it was going to be for him to leave.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry an update took so long. I hope this is okay for you guys. Thank you all so much for your comments and kudos, I am not exaggerating to say it is the only reason I even considered carrying on with this. I really hope this lives up to everything you said about the first chapter.

It was dark again when Ryan awoke. He knew it could not be the same night as when he had fallen asleep, because the sun had been almost rising when he closed his eyes. He wondered idly how long he had been lying on the sofa.

Ryan was not suffering from the clichéd confusion about where he was and how he had come to be there. He remembered vividly the events that had led him to this place, probably because they had been running on a loop in his dreams for the past few hours. There had been no time to take everything in before but now, having watched things play out over and over in his head, it felt as though it was old news, from ages ago. Ryan could muster up no grief, or fear. All he felt was a vague sense of hollowness.

Slowly, he began to hear muted voices coming from the next room. He only recognised two of them: the one who had given him the blanket, Patrick or whatever, and the vampire, Pete. On hearing that voice, Ryan felt a strange thrill of conflicting instincts; of the primal terror of prey and yet of the sense of safety he had already come to associate with the voice of his rescuer. He wondered if that should worry him. Maybe it would, after he'd had some food and got his head straight. He didn't especially care.

 

 

Pete was surprised at how easy it had been to convince Andy and Joe to help Ryan, though in hindsight it wasn't that strange. Although Ryan's presence might endanger them more, he was a vampire victim and added fuel to their visceral hatred of the species. They'd just finished talking it over when Ryan shuffled in.

“You're awake!” Pete grinned enthusiastically. “Did you sleep well?”

Patrick gave Pete a look that said 'what kind of a dumb-ass question is that?' Pete became subdued quickly.

“Right, sorry, stupid question. Is there anything I can get you? Are you hungry?”

Ryan nodded mutely.

“Toast okay for you? We don't have much food.”

Another nod.

“Great.” Pete seemed determined to fill the silence Ryan was creating, to try and force a semblance of normality into the room. It wasn't working, but Ryan appreciated the effort. The others quietly made their way out, so that the small kitchen wasn't so overcrowded. It was strangely comforting watching Pete carry out the mundane task of making toast. It somehow made him more human, less like the creatures that he had faced the night before. That is, it made him seem more human until he took a gulp of a red liquid from a glass that must have been on the table the whole time.

At first, Pete didn't understand why Ryan's wide-eyed stare had returned.

“Are you going to kill me?” It was the first thing Ryan had said since waking up, and his voice cracked, but he didn't seem afraid, or even surprised.

“No! I don't want to kill you! Why would you even think...?” Pete finally realised how things looked to Ryan. “No, this isn't blood! It's just a substitute 'Trick makes for me. I promised you I wouldn't hurt you, remember? I'm not like them.”

The words seemed to reassure Ryan, but he shook his head a little. “Yes you are.”

A familiar wave of self-loathing hit Pete. The kid was right: no matter how much he pretended, Pete was exactly like them, a dangerous, volatile, untrustworthy monster. He had no right to tell Ryan he'd be safe with him, and he was no better than those others, luring the kid into a false sense of security so the monster in him could strike when it was least expected.

The toast popped up. Pete put it on a plate. “Here. Sorry,” he muttered, before fleeing the kitchen.

 

 

 

The walls were thin. It wasn't as if Ryan couldn't hear them talking about him.

“No. Don't you dare. You can't do this to us, Pete.”

“I'm not saying I won't help you, 'Trick. I just can't look after him. I was crazy to think I could.”

“No, you know what's crazy? You. I mean, where is this coming from? You brought him here in the first place.”

“I'm just like the monsters that did all this to him. I don't have any right to take care of him.”

“You have a responsibility! Firstly because you took that responsibility the moment you decided to bring him here, but secondly because you have to prove that you're not the same as Beckett and his psychos.”

“What if I am?” Pete whispered, watching Patrick fearfully for any sign of confirmation.

Suddenly Ryan felt as if he were eavesdropping on something too personal, and he didn't want to hear any more, so he walked loudly into the room.

“I want to go home.”

Patrick sighed. “Right, of course. You want someone to come with you?”

“Pete.”

Pete stared at him. “Are you sure?”

Ryan nodded firmly.

Patrick touched his shoulder comfortingly. “Ryan, I know you're scared, and maybe you think Pete can protect you, but if you go with Pete you'll have to go at night, and that only puts you in more danger. I really think you'd be safer going in the daylight, with me or Joe or Andy.”

Pete gave a small, grateful smile to Patrick.

There was a long silence while Ryan seemed to consider the best way to explain his choice. Finally he said “I don't care if anything happens to me. That isn't why I want Pete to come with me. It's because I need him to help me explain to my parents. I need to explain what happened and why... why I'm leaving home. Because I am. Leaving them, I mean. Living there, there'd be too much pain, too many memories. And more importantly, mom and dad would be in danger. Not an option. So, Pete, even though you've already done so much for me, will you help me again?”

 

 

 

Ryan had said more in that one speech than he had said to Pete since they'd met, and with the kid looking him straight in the eye, Pete couldn't refuse. That was how they had ended up in a quiet suburban street outside a neat two-up two-down new build, stood at the front door, waiting for someone to answer and let them inside.

“You don't have to do this yet.” Pete began, when the door burst open and a woman caught Ryan in a tight hug.

“Thank god,” she murmured into his hair, “Oh thank god.” Then she seemed to remember that they were all standing outside, at night, in this town. She cast a hasty glance down the street. “Come inside, quickly.”

Ryan's mother invited Pete to make himself comfortable in the front room while she went upstairs to find her husband. He sat on the big comfortable couch bouncing his knees anxiously, Ryan standing in the corner and picking at his nails. They remained that way, in silence, for the few minutes until she returned.

“I can't find your father anywhere,” she sighed. “He's probably at Dr Jacques' house across the road getting the dressing changed on his hand.” She paused, carefully taking in the sight of her son still wearing the clothes she had last seen him in, and looking weary and deeply somber. She spared a glance at the stranger on her sofa, but her attention was consumed with checking Ryan for signs of sickness, injuries or, worst of all, bites. Finally, satisfied he was in no immediate danger, she asked, “What happened to you?”

Ryan began to speak but, in a rush, the stoic apathy that had sustained him finally expired and he crumpled, flooded with grief and loss and fear. All he could do was allow himself to be enfolded in his mother's arms, soaking her shoulder with tears and trembling helplessly.

“Momma,” he mumbled into her sweater.

She rubbed his back comfortingly. “I know baby, I know. It's okay, I'm here.”

“Momma, they killed Spencer.”

Ryan's mother didn't give away her own shock, she simply drew her son closer. “I'm so sorry sweetie.”

Pete watched silently and awkwardly until Ryan's sobbing abated. When he had dried his tears and they had all taken seats, Ryan said, “This is Pete. I stayed with him and his friends last night. I'm going to go back and live with them for a while, until it's safe to live with you again. They're vampire hunters, so you don't have to worry about me being protected. Pete saved my life last night. He found me running through Beckett's territory, and he took me back to stay with his friends.”

Ryan's mom looked confused and worried. “Why aren't you safe with your father and I? And what was this Pete doing on his own at night in town?”

The front door slammed open. The three of them froze in fear. A figure burst through the doorway.

“Dad!”

“Ryan, thank god you're okay. I thought you might be... out there. There are vamps outside. I saw them coming up the street and I only just got inside in time. But... Ryan, I'm so sorry, but Brendon was with them.”

“How can you be sure they were vampires?” Ryan's mother asked.

“Mom, it was Brendon who killed Spencer. He's been bitten. He's one of them.”

Pete spoke for the first time since he'd entered the house. “He's coming for your son.”

The doorbell rang. Pete stood up. “I'll go and deal with him.”

“No,” Ryan's mother insisted. “This is my house. I want to know what he wants with my son. I'll be fine as long as I stay inside. Wait in here.”

She went to the front door and opened it. Brendon was standing on the front step, looking the same as he always had. He spoke familiarly.

“Hi Mrs Ross. Is Ryan home?”

She stiffened, taken off guard by the way he sounded just like he was coming over to talk about the homework, like he had before vampires had changed everything.

“Brendon. What do you want?”

He gave a warm, friendly smile. “I'd like to speak to Ryan, please.”

“I'm sorry, but he's not home right now.”

Brendon's smile widened and briefly became predatory, flashing teeth. “Please, just for a moment. It's very important. It's about Spencer. I know your son's at home, I can smell him in the next room. And something else. Something... inhuman...”

Ryan appeared at his mother's side before Brendon could reveal what Pete was.

“Mom, let me talk to him for a second. It's okay.”

She was reluctant, but she saw how desperate her son was. “Don't take a single step out of that door.”

Brendon smirked. “Lovely lady, your mom.”

Protectively, Ryan took a step forward, blocking Brendon's view through the doorway. “What do you want?”

“You.”

“What for?”

Brendon became sincere. “You and Spencer are my best friends.”

Ryan wanted to be sick. He could still see Spencer's back bent at an unnatural angle, the collar of his shirt slick and blackened with his own blood. So much blood, on Brendon's face, his hands, dripping off his chin. And when he grinned his teeth were red, and a string of pink saliva stretched and snapped as his jaw opened. And the guttural sounds coming from Spencer were like drowning. And the desperate look on his face held Ryan in place long after he should have fled for his own life.

“You killed Spencer.”

“So what? I'm dead, your new friend is dead, half the people walking around this god damn town are dead these days. I did him a fucking favour. Behold, my brother, the future.” Laughing bitterly, Brendon swept a hand to gesture at himself and the creatures lurking in the darkness a respectful distance away.

“But you didn't make him a vampire. He's gone,” Ryan protested, half hoping that Brendon would correct him.

“Oh, he's gone. He'll never have to kill his best friend...” he cut himself off abruptly. “But I got to choose, and I chose to keep you. Really, he was in the way of us anyway. We don't need him, we have each other.”

Ryan wasn't even scared any more, just furious. He was almost spitting as he snarled “You sick, deluded fucker. You're right, Brendon is dead. You aren't him, you're the monster that's shaped like him. You're nothing to me. Run the fuck away from me, because you're the vermin I'm gonna destroy.”

The words didn't seem to upset Brendon; on the contrary, he seemed thrilled and exhilarated by them. “Don't worry baby, soon you'll see things my way,” he winked, before turning and bounding back to the other creatures, who all disappeared effortlessly into the night.

 


End file.
